Promises Made in the Night
by Secrets in the Dark
Summary: New stuff! A brand new chapter never before read! Check it out.
1. To Catch a Stranger's Eye

~~*DISCLAIMER: I am not the great Tolkien. I wouldn't mind being Tolkien, by any means, but alas. I am but a 1700 year old lady of Middle Earth. So plz read my fan fiction and review. Flammers always welcome as I said in my explination.*~~  
  
Eámanë blended in well with the crowd at the Prancing Pony, and that  
suited her just fine, seeing as being discovered would mean  
persecution, banishment, ridicule, and death threats. It was the same  
in every place, every time. Someone would find out what she was, and  
she would make another midnight flight.  
  
Truth be told, she relished the whole ordeal. Nothing thrilled her  
more then fleeing for her life by moonlight. It was romantic in a  
heart thumping, pulse racing, 'don't-get-caught-if-you-value-your-  
life' kind of way.  
  
In fact, she had escaped from another town just a few nights ago.  
Escaping had been a simple matter of running by moonlight and hiding  
during the day. Somewhere in between, she had used an old sword of  
her father's to cut her flaming red hair.  
  
Her father would have never approved of her living this way, but she  
couldn't change the fact that her parents had been a hobbit and an  
elf. Romance tends to hit in the strangest places and moments. Now,  
she ran from place to place like some elusive wraith, in pursuit of.  
well she didn't know quite yet, but it was something major.  
  
The chill wind ripped across her body as the door opened letting yet  
another weary traveler in from the inkiness of the night. There would  
be no moon to guide her fleeing feet until this storm passed. Let's  
hope she wouldn't be forced to deal with that.  
  
She wrapped her midnight blue velvet cloak tighter around her wispy  
frame. All around her, people were singing and celebrating, just like  
they had been since the "one ring" had been destroyed. Eámanë had  
done her fair share of partying too. That's when her life on the run  
had started.  
  
She had been celebrating in some pub, in some town, and gotten a  
little too drunk on brandy wine. She had begun to dance, and thrown  
her cloak aside for easier movement, and her Elvin form had been  
revealed. Though most of her appearance and skill came from her Elvin  
father, her height and hair were of her hobbit mother.  
  
Now, she keeps to herself and joined in celebrating in other ways.  
Never again would she get that drunk, she knew that for sure. She'd  
had one hell of a hangover that next morning.  
  
When someone would toast, she joined in, and once or twice she could  
be persuaded to sing a song, but beyond that she was a corner  
decoration. Her aquamarine eyes scanned the room periodically, and  
were suddenly caught by the most breath taking green orbs. They held  
her captive in their glance; spoke to her, but she couldn't make out  
what they were telling her.  
  
She forced herself to look the rest of the way around the rest of the  
room, and then back into her mug. How could one pair of eyes effect  
her so, dare she say rock her to her very core? She couldn't stop  
herself, she looked back towards the chair that the stranger had  
occupied, but he was gone.  
  
The disappointment threatened to overwhelm her, though she couldn't  
understand why. She got up and strolled back towards her room,  
nothing left to entertain her here. She was about halfway back when a  
strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into a claustrophobic  
closet.  
  
**I'm sorry Megs, nothing hot and steamy quite yet. Later I'll throw  
in a passionate anger turned to passionate kiss scene, just for you.** 


	2. Dreaming of Daddy

~~* Sadly. I am not the great Tolkien. * tear * I do own Eámanë though, and this gorgeous stranger. Yes indeed.. he is mine! * grabs him and hold on tight. *  
  
The only source of light was a dingy window filmed in dirt, and the  
light filtering through it barely allowed Eámanë to see the end of her  
nose, let alone the black mass in front of her.  
  
"Women traveling alone should be wary of catching a stranger's eye,"  
whispered a gravelly, yet musical, voice in her ear. "The only one  
she can trust is herself."  
  
The black mass had her pinned to the wall, and as she struggled vainly  
against him, the full moon broke through the clouds just long enough  
for her to see those emerald green orbs piercing her soul. She  
swallowed a gasp and stopped her struggle before staring at him  
defiantly.  
  
"Thanks so much for your advice, but I've been taking care of myself  
since I was 700 years old. I think I can handle some perverted  
stranger's advances!" She growled pushing him off of her and walking  
calmly into her room.  
  
The nerve of him! How dare he give her that warning? Who did he think  
he was? She paced up and down the dusty hardwood floor, her traveling  
boots thumping with each stride. She stormed out into the ink of the  
night to vent, or scream, or something. She had to let this anger out  
before she broke every bone in the stranger's body.  
  
Half an hour later she was still furious, but had worked herself into  
a state of exhaustion, so she couldn't do anything about it even if  
she wanted to. After climbing between the clean sheets, she pulled a  
chain from around her neck. On it hung a simple band of silver, with  
a teal jewel on it that winked at her in the candlelight.  
  
"Daddy," she sighed softly. "I wish you were here to hold me and tell  
me what to do next." She kissed the ring softly, then tucked it back  
under her tattered shirt, and drifted off to sleep.  
  
Her mind's eye beheld an all too familiar scene: the last time she  
ever saw her father. He came into their tiny shack smiling as always.  
He grabbed her and swung her high above his head before kissing her  
cheek and setting her down again. Then he would kiss her mom, and sit  
down at the table.  
  
Promptly, Eámanë would climb into his lap and start searching his  
pockets for a present, which he always seemed to have when he came  
home. He laughed as she searched vainly, and then pointed to his  
breast pocket, the one above his heart.  
  
"Try this one angel, maybe a sprite left something there for you."  
His eyes would crinkle with amusement at the look on her face when she  
pulled out the ring. It was a man's ring, with intricate carvings on  
the outside, and something written in Elvin inside the band.  
  
"Oh Daddy! It's so pretty!" She squealed with youthful glee. He  
pulled a chain from the same pocket, and strung the ring onto it.  
  
"I want you to take care of this for me angel." He put the chain  
around her neck. "Don't you take it off ever, okay?"  
  
"I won't Daddy," she gasped "but. why not?" his face grew serious for  
a moment, then went back to it's normal happiness.  
  
"It's my little secret," he grinned. "When I get back in a week or  
so, I'll take you and your mother on a picnic and tell you the whole  
story. How about that?"  
  
"Can we have lembas? Please!" She begged.  
  
"Anything you want angel. Anything you want." Then he grabbed her  
tightly, smothering her in a hug before setting her on the floor and  
hugging her mom again.  
  
"I'll be home soon my beautiful ladies." He promised. He whispered  
in her mother's ear for a moment, and then was gone. She never saw  
him again.  
  
The dream was the same each time, and each time she awoke in tears.  
It only happened once a year, on the anniversary of that ill-fated day  
long ago.  
  
Morning broke bright and sunny. The previous night's storm was but a  
memory. She lifted her head wearily, and rubbed the tears from her  
eyes. Going to the small mirror that the room provided, she looked  
into the eyes she shared with her father. Somehow it always eased her  
grief. Her red hair looked ablaze in the sunlight, and she smiled  
thinking of her mother. They had been so happy together, but that was  
to never be again.  
  
Just before she exited her room, she saw the stranger reflected in her  
mirror.  
  
BA BA BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! What will happen? Who is that masked man?  
Oh wait.. Wrong story. Beg Pardon, he is not masked. At least not  
yet.. 


	3. Going Home

~~* Sadly. I am not the great Tolkien. * tear * I do own Eámanë though, and this gorgeous stranger. Yes indeed.. he is mine! * grabs him and hold on tight. *  
  
He was just outside her window, staring at her. Her anger returned  
ten-fold, and she ran outside to confront him.  
  
"What do you think you were doing?" she growled.  
  
"Checking on a helpless halfling that is very wrong in believing she  
can take care of herself." He said matter-of-factly.  
  
"And what makes you think I am helpless?"  
  
"You cry in your sleep, for a man that died 1350 years ago." He said  
simply again. His eyes dared her to contradict him.  
  
"Showing emotion doesn't make one helpless, being overwhelmed by them  
does." She spat. "Now if you please, I am going inside to eat, and  
then I am getting as far away from you as I can."  
  
"Fine. Run like you always do. Any trouble comes along, and your  
solution is to use your nimble feet to flee, like a wounded animal."  
  
"At least I stay alive." She growled. Then she turned and walked  
back inside. She couldn't believe him! He didn't even know her, and  
all he could do was judge her, ridicule her, and insult her. She  
wouldn't stand for it, and by this evening, he would be but a horrible  
memory.  
  
"Is something wrong my dear?" Said the barkeep Mr. Butterbur.  
  
"Oh no sir, I just had a terrible dream, and haven't quite shaken it  
off yet." She smiled. Mr. Butterbur was the son of the absent-minded  
barkeep of the days of the Ring. While a bit more together then his  
father, he was still just as forgetful sometimes, but always kind.  
Bree had been a haven for her, until now. She may never be able to  
come back again, thanks to that awful elf.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it?" He asked concerned.  
  
"It is that same dream I have every year Mr. Butterbur, it's okay.  
I'll be fine soon." She smiled bravely and looked at the kind man.  
Every year she came here for the anniversary, so she could be  
somewhere familiar while she grieved.  
  
"How do you stand it? Reliving that horrible day year after year?  
Could it be trying to tell you something?" Mr. Butterbur asked  
sitting down after ordering her breakfast.  
  
"I wish I knew. I would love to be rid of the dream, it is already  
burned into my memory, and I don't need to be reminded year after  
year." She sighed.  
  
"Well, you know that you are always welcome here, anytime of the  
year." Mr. Butterbur patted her hand.  
  
"I know Mr. Butterbur, thanks." She ate her breakfast and prepared to  
leave again.  
  
"I'll see you next year then Mr. Butterbur?" She asked hugging him  
close.  
  
"If not sooner dear, if not sooner." Mr. Butterbur wiped a tear from  
his eye and waved her off. He had given her a pack full of food, and  
new clothes to replace her own tattered ones. She really loved Mr.  
Butterbur, he had been her second father, but she couldn't stay. She  
was a forbidden being, and Mr. Butterbur would loose all of his  
customers.  
  
He had known who she was from the moment she stumbled into his pub  
1300 years ago, a sick, sad young child. He had known both her father  
and her mother very well, and had harbored them while they got their  
own place set up. Now they were both dead, and there was nothing that  
could be done.  
  
Every year Mr. Butterbur offered for her to stay with him, but she  
loved him too much to bring that upon him. So she stayed for the  
anniversary, then made the ten-mile hike to her old home. After that,  
it was off to wherever her feet lead her to. She had been all over  
Middle-Earth, but always, her feet found their way home again.  
  
Sometime later, she wasn't exactly sure when, she stood in her old  
home. It hadn't changed much, the garden had grown over, and the  
vines made the house almost invisible from the road, but it was still  
her home. Sitting on the floor, she could still hear her mother  
singing in the kitchen, and her father whistling as he came up the  
walk from his job. She pulled the ring from her new clothes and  
smiled at it.  
  
"I've kept my promise Daddy, I've never taken it off. I never will."  
She whispered to the silence. A breeze fluttered and the sunlight  
spilling in from a hole in the ceiling warmed her. Closing her eyes,  
she could almost feel her father hugging her again. Never did she  
feel most comforted then she did sitting on this dusty old floor.  
Sometimes she'd sit here until nightfall, just listening and  
remembering.  
  
A twig cracked nearby, rupturing her reverie like a bubble. Eámanë  
froze, praying it had just been a bird. She cursed her own  
carelessness. If someone was out there, and killed her, it was her  
own fault.  
  
Okay. any guesses as to who is outside the door. All those that have  
read my earlier post.DON'T tell! No Megan, it is not a pouncing scene  
yet. I must figure out how to work that in. Plenty pouncing in your  
story though ;) 


	4. Intruder

~~* Sadly. I am not the great Tolkien. * tear * I do own Eámanë though, and this gorgeous stranger. Yes indeed.. he is mine! * grabs him and hold on tight. * Wait till you see his description YUUUUUM!*~~  
  
Another twig cracked, closer this time. There was no denying,  
whatever it was, and it would start tweeting a song anytime soon.  
Noiselessly, she withdrew her father's sword from the almost invisible  
sheath beneath her cloak. Whatever was coming, she was ready for it.  
  
Like a shadow, she slinked to the side of the room, sword in hand, and  
waited. Another twig snapped outside the door, just before a hand  
opened it. The stranger crept in, the sunlight dancing off his golden  
hair, giving him an angelic glow.  
  
'One more step.' she thought to herself. Once he took that step, she  
was behind him, holding the sword to his slim white neck.  
  
"Men traveling alone really should not walk into someone's house  
uninvited." She snarled in his ear. When he tried to flip her over  
his shoulder, she spun around, a swirl of velvet, and knocked his feet  
from under him. He landed on his back with a harsh thud. Pointing  
the tip of the sword to the hollow of his neck, she dared him to move  
with an icy glare.  
  
He glared back for a moment, before barking out a hearty laugh,  
and flashing her a soft, easy smile. "The old boy was right after all!" He grinned. "Feisty was an understatement though." His voice was a soft caress on her ears.  
  
"I was wrong, there was an animal outside my door. Maybe I should  
skin it." She applied slight pressure to his neck with the sword tip.  
  
"Hey now! I'm not an animal, not out of bed anyway. I come in  
peace!" He held up his hands in surrender.  
  
"Who are you?" she demanded.  
  
"Armolas Greenleaf at your service madam." He grinned again. That  
grin was very contagious, much like her father's, and that bothered  
her. She couldn't decide which to do, gut this elf, or smile back.  
  
"Now tell me why I should care." She dared him.  
  
"Okay. I take it your still angry about earlier." Armolas said  
sheepishly.  
  
"Whatever gave you THAT idea?" she snapped, applying more pressure to  
the sword.  
  
"I'm sorry!" he squeaked, eyeing the sword warily. "Can't we talk  
about this? How about we go back to Bree and have a couple of pints  
and some food?"  
  
"How can I be sure you'll talk and not try to kill me again?"  
  
"I never tried to kill you!" he protested.  
  
"Your threat was still clear enough. Give me one good reason not to  
slice that pretty little neck of yours, and then we'll talk." She made  
slicing motions just a breath above his neck.  
  
"Your father sent me with a message for you!" Armolas yelled in a  
panic. Eámanë pulled the sword back suddenly, shocked.  
  
"My father has been dead for 1350 year, you said so yourself. How  
could he have sent a message to me?" She asked, pointing the sword at  
him again.  
  
"You are one hard lady to find. I've been looking for you since the  
war that took your father ended. That is a long time to look for one  
girl, and this is the reception I get!"  
  
"You insulted me from the first repulsive words out of your mouth.  
What did you expect me to do, welcome you with open arms and a kiss?"  
  
"I wouldn't have objected." He shrugged.  
  
"If I were you, I sure as hell wouldn't be cracking jokes elf boy."  
She snapped, forcing the sword against his skin again.  
  
"Alright! All right! I apologize! I just wanted to test you back  
there. Your father told me you were a tough little thing, he never  
mentioned you could knock a warrior flat on his back!"  
  
"I was only 650 years old when he died. I couldn't knock a dog down  
to its knees. I've grown." She said, offering him a hand up. He  
accepted it, and she hauled him to his feet roughly before sheathing  
the sword and plopping in a nearby chair.  
  
"Thanks." Armolas sighed with relief.  
  
"Whatever! Now. Daddy sent me a message?" She looked at him, pleading  
that this wasn't some cruel joke.  
  
"Several actually m'lady. I can only give you some of them now, but  
they will all come out in due time. First, he said that he loved you  
with all of his heart and soul. He also said that he was sorry that  
he wouldn't be able to take you on that picnic."  
  
"Did he say anything else?" She asked, blinking back tears.  
  
"That is all for now. Do you trust me?" He asked staring at her.  
  
"What?" She looked at him in surprise.  
  
"Do you trust me?" he repeated.  
  
"Should I?" she asked him defiantly.  
  
"It would be beneficial, seeing as in a matter of weeks, not only will  
our lives depend on that trust, but possibly the lives of hundreds, if  
not thousands, of others."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked.  
  
"All in due time princess. Do you trust me?" he pushed.  
  
"I . I. I suppose I do." She admitted ignoring the princess comment.  
  
"Good, then we can be on our way!" He jumped to his feet and looked  
at her expectantly.  
  
"You think I will just jump up and follow you to the ends of Middle  
Earth, don't you?"  
  
"No. We aren't going to the ends of Middle Earth. We are only going  
back into Bree to get supplies." He grinned at her.  
  
"And then."  
  
"And then we will be headed to the ends of Middle Earth." He kept  
grinning at her.  
  
~~~* There she is, another chapter done. What did yall think? I can  
see no one is reviewing as of yet, but this is also old stuff. New  
stuff soon, I promise. Hey Megs. I will have a pounce scene very  
soon.*~~~ 


	5. Armolas Greenleaf

~~* Sadly. I am not the great Tolkien. * tear * I do own Eámanë though, and this gorgeous stranger. Yes indeed.. he is mine! * grabs him and hold on tight. * Wait till you see his description YUUUUUM!*~~  
  
"Right then. Let me just. say goodbye." She sighed and looked around  
the room. When would she see it again? After a few minutes, she got  
up and followed him out the door.  
  
"You'll see it again princess, don't worry. You have my word as an  
elf, a warrior, and . a friend." He looked at her with sincerity. It  
was like he could read her mind, and that both bothered and comforted  
her.  
  
"Now, let's just hope your word is as good as you claim." She said.  
  
"Yes. Let's hope." He said looking at her with a sidelong glance.  
  
Soon after, they arrived back in Bree. Mr. Butterbur met them at the  
door. "What are you doing back dear? Did you change your mind on  
staying with me?" he smiled hopefully winking at her.  
  
"I wish Mr. Butterbur. Instead, I am going on an adventure." She  
looked at Armolas, who was making a list of supplies, scribbling on a  
note pad he had withdrawn from his cloak.  
  
"Do you really trust that elf Eámanë?" Mr. Butterbur asked worriedly.  
  
"I think I have to Mr. Butterbur. I really don't have a choice." She  
watched Armolas from across the room. He had a very easy manner, and  
he seemed to have a smile on his face all the time. His golden blonde  
hair shone in the sunlight, and fluttered behind him as he dashed from  
one end of the shop to the other.  
  
"Just don't let yourself get swept away." Mr. Butterbur warned. "I  
expect you'll be back here next year then?"  
  
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away!" she promised. She kissed Mr.  
Butterbur on the cheek before going to Armolas' side.  
  
"You seem friendly enough with the staff." Armolas said stiffly. His  
smile was just under the surface, but he looked angry, or. jealous.  
  
"Aww. look, Armolas is jealous!" She squealed slightly, pinching his  
cheeks. He blushed faintly and coughed.  
  
"I am not. I was just noticing." He stammered, turning pinker.  
Eámanë suppressed a giggle and followed him silently. After some time  
had passed, Armolas sat down with a weary sigh.  
  
"You've had 1350 years to prepare and you are just getting this stuff  
together now?" Eámanë teased.  
  
"Oh leave me alone." Armolas muttered. "I didn't see you helping  
much."  
  
"I tried, you told me to go sit down and have a pint." She smiled,  
passing him a mug of brandy wine.  
  
"I did?" he asked. When she nodded, he shrugged and slumped down in  
his chair. "I don't remember saying that." He took a large swallow  
and licked his lips. "Nothing better then Butterbur's Brandy wine."  
He said putting the mug down.  
  
"So will you tell me more about this journey we are about to embark on  
now, or should I wait until it's over and then ask?" laughed Eámanë.  
Armolas sighed the heavy sigh of an elf carrying the weight of the  
world on his shoulders. He was thinking, and she took the time to  
study her escort into the unknown.  
  
His hair was the color of corn silk in summer, and it hung full and  
thick to his sturdy waist. His eyes were ever startling, quick to  
sparkle with mischief and devilment, but now they held a brooding  
storm of pain and anger. His smooth skin held a glorious tan seldom  
found on elves, and it enhanced his rugged appearance.  
  
He certainly wasn't a typical elf. Most were barely there, just wispy  
leaves on the breeze, but Armolas was buff and muscular under his  
thinning brown and green traveler's clothes. He was still agile as a  
cat, moving his body gracefully through any actions he made.  
  
His delicate ears pointed sharply, much like her own. He had a regal  
nose, and at the moment his mouth was a hard line. His lips were  
soft, and lush, but pushed together in his attempt to maintain his  
decorum. He sighed again, pulling her from her straying thoughts.  
They had been leading her to wondering what it would be like to be  
kissed by those lips.  
  
"I will eventually tell you everything there is to know." He began.  
"But they say the best place to start is the beginning." He turned  
his eyes to meet hers, and that took her breath away. "By now, you  
are all too familiar with the story of the One Ring of Power and how  
the fellowship destroyed it." Eámanë nodded.  
  
"Well, my twin brother was part of it. He is Legolas  
Greenleaf." She gasped. She had heard of the strong, silent  
elf that had been a vital part of the fellowship often. Armolas  
continued.  
  
"After it was over, I never saw him again. He had heard the call of  
the sea, and he is out there with the dwarf Gimli, sailing on  
adventures Middle Earth will never hear about. My family knows his  
rich laugh will never again echo through Mirkwood, but there is a dire  
need for me to bring something he knows back."  
  
Already questions were forming in her mind, but she silenced them and  
merely nodded again. He was still looking deeply into her eyes, but  
it was as though he wasn't seeing her, but his brother.  
  
"My purpose in finding you was more then just giving you those  
messages. It is vital that you go to my brother as well. All you  
need to get is one word."  
  
"One word?"  
  
"Just one. With that one word, we can unlock a sacred door and the  
prophecy can be fulfilled at last."  
  
"What prophecy?" Armolas's eyes glazed over. His voice came out in  
frightening monotone as he recited from his memory. 


	6. The Prophecy

~~* Sadly. I am not the great Tolkien. * tear * I do own Eámanë though, Armolas. Ain't he dreamy? Here is NEW STUFF! * cheers and applause * Thank you Thank you. Please enjoy and review. Plz Plz Plz.*~~~  
  
Brothers one, brothers all  
Given a word at birth  
Will unlock the door behind the fall  
And release the savior of Middle Earth.  
  
"What does it mean?" She asked.  
  
"I have 5 brothers, including Legolas. All of the others have died,  
but they left me with the word they were given the day they were born.  
I just need Legolas's, and I can open that door."  
  
"But why do you need to? Middle Earth is at peace. No one is  
fighting, not even among the races. Since the fellowship, everyone  
has gotten along. Even Mordor is a safe place to go." Eámanë said.  
  
"Trouble lurks everywhere. Just below the surface, that old hatred  
still simmers. In some, it has almost reached the boiling point.  
When it does, I honestly don't know if Middle Earth will survive this  
war. The last one practically undid us all. Thousands of elves fled,  
and elves fear nothing and no one. Now our race has finally built up  
again, but this impending war will be the doom of everyone, elves,  
hobbits, dwarves, and men." Armolas had lost his smile. At that  
moment, Eámanë would have done anything to see it again.  
  
"Why do you need me?"  
  
"I started out just bringing you the messages, they meant nothing to  
me besides a favor I owed a good man. Then I got word that my uncle  
had died. I rushed home, obviously. It is then I learned that he  
knew your father. I had written home about your father many times.  
Waiting for me at home was a letter from my uncle. He told me about  
their relationship, and told me that you were a sweet girl." Armolas  
smiled at her softly.  
  
"How.?" Eámanë wondered. She just barely remembered meeting one of  
her father's friends. Yes, his name had been Greenleaf. Fëanáro  
Greenleaf. He was a tall, happy elf that hugged her often, and gave  
her piggyback rides. She had liked him so much, and she was terribly  
sorry to hear he had died.  
  
"Fëanáro." She whispered.  
  
"Then you do remember him. He wasn't sure if you would. He told me  
about you once, like he knew that we would meet one day."  
  
"Of course I remember him. He was the nicest elf I had ever met. He  
was the ONLY elf I had ever met."  
  
Armolas laughed. "He sure liked you. That is what helped me remember  
you from when I was younger. Unlce Fëa didn't like any children he  
wasn't related to. Hell, he loved you. He came home from visiting  
your father, and for months all he talked about was the precious  
little girl there. The girl he felt was more then she seemed. I  
think now that he knew you would be the only one that could reach  
Legolas."  
  
"But I still don't understand. Why me?" Eámanë was blushing she was  
so pleased to hear that man thought highly of her. That was a rare  
occurrence for her. No one had loved her since her parents. Well,  
besides Mr. Butterbur.  
  
"Legolas had a crush on you for the longest time. Seeing you now, I  
don't blame him." Armolas winked at her.  
  
"He what?" Eámanë almost shouted. "How could he? He never saw me."  
  
"Oh yes he did. When he and I were 1250, you were about 650. Uncle  
Fëa had gone to check on you. He had heard about your father, and  
wanted to take care of you. Legolas went with him, and I would have,  
but as you know, I was in the war."  
  
"That's awfully young for an elf to be in the war." She commented.  
  
"All my brothers had gone, but Legolas had twisted hi ankle and  
couldn't leave. So I went in his place. He went with our uncle and  
saw you."  
  
"I don't remember ever seeing your uncle but once. Certainly not  
after my father died."  
  
"They watched you from the woods around your home, but Uncle Fëa  
realized that you needed to grow up without the influence of elves.  
So they left you there. He was never sorry he did that, only sorry  
that you had to grow up without either parent. But I do believe he  
knew."  
  
"Knew what?"  
  
"Knew that the life you've lived on the run would save you one day.  
Your as fit as a warrior, you proved that to me when you knocked me  
flat. Not even Legolas could do that."  
  
"I caught you by surprise." Eámanë said shrugging. She wasn't used  
to compliments or flattery. They sounded strange to her ears.  
  
"So did thousands of orcs in the war, none of them even made me  
stumble. You are very fit, and very able to do whatever comes your  
way. I know you are."  
  
"Thanks." She whispered.  
  
"No thanks necessary. I'm only stating facts."  
  
"So I am supposed to go get this one word from your twin brother  
because I can knock a warrior flat and he has a crush on me? How does  
that work?"  
  
"You use your womanly ways on him, and if that doesn't work, you kick  
his ass." Armolas laughed.  
  
"But of course. Why didn't I think of that? Does he know I'm half  
hobbit?"  
  
"Oh yes, of course he does. I think that was part of the allure. He  
had never known anyone of another race, and suddenly there you were,  
very much an elf, but very much not at the same time. Well, that and  
you were so pretty."  
  
Eámanë blushed a deep crimson, and turned her head so he wouldn't see.  
"Do we start tomorrow then?" She asked, struggling to change the  
subject.  
  
"Aye, at dawn. You don't mind running during the day, do you?" he  
teased.  
  
"Right then. It is really late, I'm going to turn in." she got up  
quickly.  
  
"Your hobbit half needs sleep, doesn't it. I'm sorry, I will get used  
to it eventually."  
  
"No need to apologize. I don't need much, but I do need some. And it  
has been a very long day. Goodnight then."  
  
"Goodnight princess."  
  
There it is yall. The new stuff I promised. I hope you like it. Let  
me know if it is lame or something like that. Let me know if you love  
it. Let me know if you think ducks are cool. 


End file.
